Scars of a Servant
by EclipsusLunaris
Summary: While on a hunting trip, events unfold so that the scars Merlin has received in defense of Arthur are revealed to his beloved prince and the knights.


"Merlin"... a voice floated softly into the young warlock's dream. "Merlin"... again, louder this time. The third time, the voice was accompanied by a shock of cold as the blanket was ripped ungracefully from his sleeping form.

Merlin's eyes shot open, a spell on the tip of his tongue, ready to defend the prince if needs be. What he saw however, was said prince's face floating above his own bearing a smirk so wide he had to do a double take to make sure that it was, in fact, Arthur.

"Have a nice beauty sleep Merrrlin?" the crowned prince of Camelot inquired, drawing out his servant's name in the way he knew the boy hated most.

"Now that you mention it, your highness..." Merlin started to respond before Arthur cut him off.

"We're leaving on a hunt in half an hour. You need to prepare the horses and pack provisions for at least four days."

An exasperated groan could be heard from the bed. Arthur smirked and started to leave.

"Oh and Merlin...I do hope you saw fit to polish my armor last night as I ordered. The consequences of you not having done so would be, shall we say, most unpleasant."

An hour later found Merlin Emrys, greatest warlock ever to walk the earth, vanquisher of Nimuah and master over life and death trailing behind his prince's horse on foot grumbling inaudibly about stupid armor and the prince's vanity.

Eventually, he resigned himself to his 'punishment' and joined in the conversation with the other knights.

Gwaine was recounting one of his tavern tales of which he seemed to have an unending supply. This one, it appeared, ended with him chucking a pastry at the tavern-owner's face and making off with an entire flagon of beer, much to the delight of all the ladies in the room. The knight ended his story with a flourish and gave a mock bow on his horse to the applause of the other knights.

Eventually, the conversation evolved, as conversations among the knights often did, to battle stories. Leon had a fair amount of these stored up and was all to eager to share some of the more thrilling ones with the younger, less experienced knights.

"We were surrounded on all sides by contingents of enemy knights, jeering and mocking us...and that's how I got this scar across my chest." the older knight finished, pulling up his shirt and chain mail slightly so that everyone could get a good look at the thin scar running across his chest. Merlin could see that it had gone deep, but not so deep that it could have caused any lasting damage. 'Leon was lucky', he thought to himself, subconsciously rubbing the place where his arm had almost been severed from his body a few weeks ago by a rogue sorcerer and his accomplice. Were it not for quick thinking on Merlin's part (and a little magic), he would currently be short one arm.

Arthur's horse stopped abruptly and Merlin, his mind caught up in the past, couldn't stop in time and ran into its backside only to be kicked to the ground by the horse's thankfully unshod hoof.

The servant groaned under the roaring laughter of the others. 'That's gonna be one nasty bruise' be thought dismally before good-naturedly joining the others in their laughter. If there was one thing Merlin was, he wasn't a complainer.

Merlin went about setting up camp while the knights lounged around the fire he had built, continuing to swap stories about battle scars and the like. Merlin glanced from time to time when one of them was showing off a scar and dimly thought about the scars littering his own body. The thought didn't often cross his mind. In reality, he tried actively not to think of them. He rarely looked in the mirror for fear that he would grow resentful if he were confronted with visual evidence of all the sacrifices he had made for a prince who was not even aware of it. A prince who, if he discovered the scars and what his servant was, would undoubtedly be forced to kill or banish him (neither of which much appealed to Merlin).

Merlin was jolted from his reverie by his name being called. He looked up from the saddles to see Gwaine calling him to come join them. Rolling his eyes at the inconvenience, he stood up on his sore feet and slowly walked over to join the rest of the hunting party.

"Ah yes, Merlin, I know just the thing to get your feet feeling better," Arthur said lightly.

"What is it?" Merlin asked skeptically.

"Its a surprise!" Gwaine all but shouted and with that, started running in the direction of a clump of trees.

With a bemused smile at Gwaine's antics, Merlin and the rest of the knights followed him at a slower pace.

When they reached their destination however, Merlin stopped short and all the blood drained from his face. There was Gwaine, stripped naked, floating on his back in a lazy river. They were going swimming. Merlin couldn't. They would see. They would all see. Everything he had ever done for his prince was splayed across his skin and if he took off his clothes, even for a moment, they would see it all. As the knights were stripping around him, it took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to turn in the direction from which he had come and flee back to the camp. 'But if I do that' he reasoned, 'then they'll know something's off.' No, it was better just to play it cool and sit on the sidelines. Then perhaps they wouldn't question him too far.

But how wrong he was...

"Merrrlin!" Arthur drawled. "Come onnn! Don't be such a spoil sport!"

"Merlin! Merlin! Merlin!" cheered on the knights.

"Not today guys," Merlin replied blandly. "I just don't feel like swimming."

"Oh come onnnn Merrrlin," they begged. But Merlin would not be swayed. He elected to sit on a tall rock, overlooking the river. Hearing the sounds of splashing and laughter below, the young warlock longed to be a part of it but knew in his heart that he could never be. There would always be a separation between them and him. They would live their lives carefree and happy while it would always be his job to protect them from whatever dangers they happened across. Such was his burden. There were those who said that magic was the greatest gift a person would be born with and there were certainly moments when this seemed to be true, like when he created colored lights in the darkness or caused flowers to grow in an empty field. But there were also moments, such as this, when his magic was a curse. It was his magic that alienated him from his friends. That forced him to look on while they played like children in the river. It was times like these when he longed to lay down his burden for just a moment and rest. But that was not possible. He was different. And he had a duty to protect his prince. He could not do that dead or banished and he could not join them without revealing his curse so he watched and listened. Always separate, always alone.

That is, until a certain tavern-frequenting knight decided that his young friend should be alone no longer.

While Merlin was brooding, the knight had snuck up behind him and, all in one moment, shoved the servant off the rock and into the water below.

Merlin sputtered, his arms flailing helplessly in the water until he realized it was actually shallow enough to stand in and placed his feet firmly on the river bottom. He looked up to see the culprit falling through the sky directly toward him. Shouting, the all-powerful warlock dove head-first away as Gwaine splashed into the place he had been standing only seconds prior.

"Sorry 'bout that mate. Guess I misjudged my landing." Gwaine apologized, smiling sheepishly at the doused servant.

"You think." Merlin replied, exasperated and then realizing the danger of his situation, started quickly trying to get out of the water. Unfortunately, he was not fast enough as arms grabbed him from behind and pulled him under. It was Arthur, determined to make his servant stay in the water.

"Now Merlin, we wouldn't want you disappearing on us, now would we. Gwaine! Help me!" Arthur cried as Merlin struggled fruitlessly to free himself. "Honestly Merlin, you'd think you were fighting for you life."

Merlin didn't allow the ironic truth of that statement to sink in. He was too busy trying to get away. If Arthur saw...

Too late. With Gwaine's aid, Merlin's shirt was soon off and silence fell.

"Mate..." Gwaine started, but was cut off by Merlin's soft, but firm demand. "Give me my shirt." Arthur didn't even think about disobeying. Merlin quickly pulled on the soaked garment and slowly made his way out of the water and back to camp.

The boy was in a stupor. 'Arthur saw. Arthur knows. Arthur saw. Arthur..." was all that kept running through his mind. His prince had seen the irrefutable evidence of his service and now he was to be executed or banished. A hundred different scenarios, none of them good, kept playing out in his head...banishment, the stake, hanging, decapitation. Arthur's options were endless. He darkly tried to guess which one the prince would choose. Probably the stake; that did tend to be a favorite with his father. Merlin wasn't afraid to die. Honestly, he had come so close so many times in protection of the prince that death had somehow lost its terror. What he did fear was the look that would be in Arthur's eyes when he discovered the rest of Merlin's secret. It would undoubtedly be a look of pure, unbridled hatred and betrayal and the servant could not bear to see that look in the face of the one for whom he had suffered all those wounds. The one he loved as a brother and the only one for whom he would be willing to sacrifice his very life. Merlin allowed a single tear to streak down his wet face before determinedly wiping his face. There would be no crying. If it were indeed his fate to die at Arthur's hands, he would face his death with dignity and make the last memories of himself on earth memories of strength rather than of the false weakness he had put forth for most of his life. There would be no more lies, no more deceit. He would reveal his true self to his prince and, if Arthur could not accept him, so be it.

When the knights and price returned to the camp a few minutes later, it was to find an already dry Merlin bending over the stew pot starting dinner.

After a hurried, whispered conversation, during which, Merlin chose to ignore them, they finally approached Merlin and sat in a circle around the fire. The servant dished out the stew, though no one had much of an appetite. A few attempts at light conversation were started but all failed miserably and, in they end, they opted to eat in silence. When they had finished the meal, they stacked their dishes in the large pot and Merlin started to pick it up to go wash them when Arthur's voice broke the silence.

"Sit down, Merlin."

The young warlock had no choice but to comply. Trembling slightly, he sat on a log between Arthur and Elyan and silently waited for his prince to continue.

"What was that, Merlin?" Arthur queried, his voice quavering ever so slightly.

"What was what, sire?" Merlin asked lightly, trying to hold on to his masquerade for just a moment longer.

"Don't play stupid, Merrrlin! You know what! What was that, back there, your chest?" Arthur barked, clearly irritated.

'Oh so he only saw my chest,' thought Merlin. 'That's good, maybe he won't ask about the rest."

Out loud he replied: "My chest?"

"And your arms and your back and...everything!" Arthur added, dashing Merlin's last hope to the ground.

"Ah, yes...that."

"What do you mean? That! You have more scars than any warrior I've ever known and that's only the parts I've seen! What happened to you!" Arthur exclaimed, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Well...its kind of a long story..." Merlin started but Gwaine broke in: "We have all night."

"Right...um...where do you want me to start?" he asked hesitantly.

"Try the beginning." Arthur replied bluntly.

'Here it goes,' Merlin thought and then said aloud: "Okay, so...um...Ihavemagic," he rushed.

"Come again," said Gwaine, confused.

"I have magic," Merlin said, this time without stuttering.

"Don't be ridiculous Merrrlin, there's no way you have magic...I would know." Arthur replied, disbelieving.

"Yeah?" Merlin asked softly. Face full of resignation, he lifted a trembling hand and his eyes flashed a brilliant gold. A small flame appeared in his palm, not large enough to be threatening, but definitely big enough that they would realize what it was.

There was silence in the camp. The only sounds that could be heard were the hooting of an owl and the soft crackling sounds made by the fire consuming wood.

When Merlin finally brought himself to look into Arthur's eyes, he saw the pain and betrayal that he had expected to see, but surprisingly, no hatred. Arthur didn't hate him! Maybe there was hope for him yet. At any rate, he could at least explain himself and perhaps alleviate some of the pain he could see in his best friend's eyes.

"You're a sorcerer, I trusted you," the prince said dully.

"Please sire, allow me to explain," Merlin begged and Arthur nodded his head slightly, the pain still not leaving his eyes.

"You see, I didn't choose magic...I was born with it. My mother tells me that I was moving things with my mind long before I was able to reach for them myself. I never had a choice in the matter. I was in danger from day one...and my mother was in danger for not killing me the moment she discovered what I was. My birthright was death both for myself and for anyone who chose to protect me. But she protected me anyway. She raised me and loved me. Uther's teachings had reached my village and I grew up believing myself to be a monster but she loved me anyway...and believed in me, which meant more to me than she will ever know. You have to understand Arthur, when I say I don't have a choice in the matter, I mean I literally do not have a choice. When I was about ten, I tried to stop using magic. It lasted about three days before I became so sick that I almost died. Were it not for Gaius' knowledge, I probably would have."

Merlin chanced a glance around him to find the eyes of the knights and prince slightly damp for the pain their friend had suffered.

Arthur, still hurt by his best friend's betrayal, however, pressed him on: "But why did you come to Camelot? Why lie? Why not go to the druids? Surely they would have accepted you with open arms"...Arthur paused here as he realized what he had just said. How many druids had he killed on his father's orders and here he was, thoughtlessly commenting on their goodness? He wrong had he been? But this was about Merlin. He could think more on the druids later.

Merlin sighed. "My magic was getting out of control. I couldn't stop it coming out. My mother sent me to Gaius since he had been able to help us with my magical problems in the past. I probably could have gone to the druids, but they were strangers to me. It was better to go to someone I knew I could trust, even if he did live in the very heart of Camelot. As far as why I agreed to become your servant, you have to understand that Gaius doesn't make as much as you would expect the court physician to make. There was no way he could have supported the both of us on his salary so when the king offered me a job, I really had little choice but to take it."

"But Merlin," Gwaine broke in, "you have magic! Why didn't you just rob a tavern...or the vaults?"

"Not all people of magic are criminals, Gwaine...no offence, and I would really rather work for my living than steal it from others. Anyways, Arthur, that's why I became your servant. As to why I lied to you...if I had told you I was of magic when I first met you, would you have hesitated to kill me?"

Merlin looked up at Arthur and Arthur averted his eyes ashamedly to the ground.

"Thought not," Merlin said softly. "I realize that I should have told you in the time since then, but there was never the right moment and I was never completely certain what you would do to me if I did tell you."

Arthur slowly nodded. "I don't understand what that has to do with the scars littering your body though."

Merlin again sighed. "As soon as I came to Camelot, I met the dragon. Well...he kind of called to me in my mind. Anyways, he told me that-"

"Hang on," Leon interrupted, "you mean the dragon that attacked Camelot?"

"Um, yeah," Merlin said looking away.

"Oh Merlin, don't tell me that you were the one who released it! Do you realize how many people it killed!" Arthur exclaimed.

"I didn't have a choice, Arthur. I had to make a deal with him to get him to help me save Camelot from those immortal knights Morgouse awakened. Still, he won't attack Camelot again."

"Because he's dead...he is dead right?... Merlin!"

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean? Not exactly!"

"I sent him away. He can't attack Camelot again. I ordered him not to."

"But only a dragon lord can do that," Percival stated, staring at the servant with newfound wonder.

"The last one was Balinor. He died." Arthur stated simply, but the grief in Merlin's eyes as he said that struck him silent.

"But that must mean..." Percival started.

"He was my father," Merlin stated emotionlessly.

"Oh, Merlin. And I told you- I'm so sorry" Arthur said, horrified at what he had said to Merlin on his fathers death.

"Its okay Arthur, you couldn't have known" Merlin replied gently and with a deep breath, continued.

"Anyway, Kilgarah, the dragon, told me that it was my destiny to protect you, Arthur, and that is what I have striven to do since I came to Camelot. I have protected you with and without my magic since the day I was made your servant. I swear I have never used my magic against you in any harmful way."

"Tell me the stories of how you got your scars Merlin," Arthur asked quietly.

While it was not actually posed as a question, Merlin heard the hesitance behind it and softly said, "Its okay, Arthur. I don't really mind. It was only a few days after I became your servant that..."

And the story went on. Merlin told his friends of all he had suffered over the past three years, all he had gained and lost, his triumphs and his failures, and as he did so, he felt the burden he had borne alone begin to lighten. He still had his powers, but was no longer alone. The warlock was finally at peace.

MerlinMerlinMerlinMerlinMerlinMerlin

Hi guys! So this is only my second story so I'd love some constructive feedback from more experienced writers…and readers. Thanks so much:)


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